Walking Up the Mountain to Pray

Reflections on My Sabbatical

I think it is true that many great adventures begin with a friendly dare, or perhaps even a sincere suggestion!  When I told Mike Blom we were thinking of traveling to South Dakota to see Mt. Rushmore, my friend and his wife Beth, both born in the great Northern state had many a suggestion and maybe even a dare or two!  I am joking, of course, but Mike did encourage me to hike up Black Elk Peak.  At 7,242 feet, it is the highest peak this side of the Rockies, and since I did say that my main objective during my sabbatical was “to go up the mountain to pray,” it seemed more than a dare or even a suggestion.  It was an imperative, one that was God-inspired!

Though we are often accompanied on great adventures with friends and families, this journey was one I was to make alone.  Jan didn’t want to take the 5 hour hike up and down, and the boys expressed doubt and trepidation!  They would rather swim!  And so, after a bit of stretching, a pack filed with water and a few provisions, including the snake bite kit Mike had provided (I think this more than anything dissuaded Jan!), I set off on my journey up Black Elk Peak.

Walking down the path, I thought the first steps were rather easy as I meandered through the countryside on a gentle slope.  I was glad I was starting in the morning, as the first part had much open sunlight, but soon I was surrounded by tall pines and the path took a steeper incline.  I was praying as I walked, thinking of things in my life, both important and mundane.  Even when I am in the depths of prayer, I find my mind can often wander.  I try to stay open to the Lord, even when my thoughts take me to strange places!  Even so, I prayed for my family, especially my wife and her battle with cancer, praying it will be kept at bay; I prayed for my children, giving thanks for their personalities and for blessings on their journeys; I prayed for Hope United, for direction and guidance; I prayed for my parents and sisters, for friends, for our world and its many challenges, for God’s will be done.  And I prayed that the Lord would bring a renewal to my faith, that through this time of sabbatical, I would fall in love again with the One who gives me life, and that I might discern the path of service my Lord begs me to follow.

The thing about journeys, especially when you are walking up a mountain to pray, you need to concentrate on where you are going!  Thank God I was given a trail to follow, and for the most part it was easy to find my way!  But even so, I had to be attentive, look for the signs, and watch my steps.  As on any journey, I was mindful of the need to be aware of my immediate surroundings, to even plan my steps, all with the goal of reaching the top of the mountain.  This was not a sprint!  And given that I’m not in the best of shape, I tried to conserve my strength, take many breaks along the way, and drink plenty of water.  This was a very popular trail, and though I passed several who were coming down, there were a few who found my advancement too slow!  Every time a more enthusiastic traveler passed me, I just reminded myself that the turtle ended up beating the hare!

I also took time to admire the view along the way—to take in the beautiful, rugged terrain of the Black Hills, the jagged peaks of granite, the towering pines and white-barked Aspen, a land of awe and wonder.  Even on my approach, I didn’t want to miss the blessing of the journey.  I knew where I was going, and on one part of the trail, I could even see my goal—a stone building and lookout tower that was used to catch fires before they spread.  It looked tiny in the distance, and it also looked rather high!  But it was helpful to see where I was going, even inspirational.  It let me see that my goal was attainable, even if part of me doubted I could make it.

And so I continued, one step at a time.  The trail got steeper and the terrain more rugged, especially the last bit of the path where two trails converged to go up the final stretch that would bring me to the top.  But eventually, I came to a set of stairs, one last climb.  Instead of pushing myself too much (I was out of breath!), I rested in the shade (a small stone tunnel along the way) before proceeding.

The view was spectacular!  And boy, was I high up!  Despite my fear of heights, I climbed the tower and looked over the edge (while holding on tightly)!

I could see for miles and miles!  I was even told that on a clear day, one could see 5 states from that vantage point!  I must be honest though, when I looked down at the area surrounding the tower, I couldn’t believe how many people were up there with me!  More than that, some of them were much braver than I, getting right near the edge, climbing on rocks that were over 7,000 feet high!

And though I took advantage of the amazing view, I was also grateful for the cool and powerful wind!  And it was really blowing!  After all, didn’t I come up the mountain to pray and isn’t the wind a metaphor for the Spirit of God?  I resolved to embrace the moment, to not rush back down, but to take it all in, to rest and pray, to admire and celebrate reaching the goal of my journey.  I sat down, took a few pictures, and enjoyed a bit to eat, all the while watching the chipmunks that showed no fear of falling, all scrambling around for the latest bit of food dropped by my fellow sojourners.

And in my prayer and discernment, walking this journey, I distinctly heard the voice of the Stillspeaking God, telling me that this would not be the last mountain I walked.  I still have more mountains to climb, more summits to reach, more challenges, some of them just as grueling and difficult.  The sound of the Lord was both adamant and compelling, both literal and symbolic, and I felt blessed that the Lord would invite me on such a journey.

Coming down from the peak, curiously I found that going down was just as hard if not more difficult than going up!  It wasn’t as grueling physically (I was going down after all), but I had to be very careful with my steps.  It was easier to slip, and several times I lost my balance and almost fell.  I was reminded that on any journey, going up or coming down, there was a need to remain attentive.  When we are chasing a dream, it’s easier to maintain your diligence, but after you reach your goal there is a strong temptation to become complacent, to forget the hard work and careful planning that got you to this point.  And so I resolved, with God’s help, to continue to watch my steps, for I know that the Lord still has mountains for me to climb!

Ron Trimmer is pastor of Hope United, a new church in Georgetown, Texas.  Click here to visit Hope United’s website.